All I Demand Of You
by Raoul4me
Summary: Sure, Christine is happy with Raoul... But in the back of her mind she's always wondered: what if there really WAS something between her and The Phantom? There's only one way to find out!
1. Unforgotten

_Welcome one and all. A few notes before we begin..._

_This story doesn't strictly follow the book, the new movie, or the play. It's not set in any particular time period either. It's more about the core beings of each of the characters: Raoul the normal nice guy, Christine the conflicted/tempted/tormented, and The Phantom...well, you all know what he's like. ;)_

_And we're off!_

**Chapter One: Unforgotten**

It was dark. It always was.

"Erik?"

Christine called out his name for what seemed like the millionth time. The mist swirling up from the underground river surrounded her, making it hard to see. But she knew he was here.

She could feel him.

"Erik, come out!" she cajoled. "I need to speak with you."

"When you left, I assumed it was because we had nothing more to talk about."

Christine gave a start and turned around. There he was. Tall, pale, his dark hair slicked back, his deep eyes penetrating to her very soul. She couldn't help it, her breathing quickened.

"Did I frighten you, Christine?" he smirked, taking a step forward. "You knew I was here. I know you did."

He took a lock of her hair between his fingertips. She stared into his eyes, not daring to close her own and savor what she had been longing for so long. She was with Erik again. Alone again.

"It's been a long time," she managed at last.

"Mmm," he grunted, still feeling her hair. "You had something you needed to speak with me about... So speak."

"I came to tell you..." she marshaled her words. "I came to tell you that it would never work out between us."

"Ah," he said, letting go of her hair. "I see."

Was that a twinkle of amusement in his eyes?

"Well, surely you must realize that," Christine insisted. "I mean, it would be insane to think that you and I could..."

"Madness." he nodded, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. "Utter madness. I agree."

"You...you do?" Christine was taken aback.

"Oh, yes." Erik nodded again, taking the tiniest of steps forward. "It's obvious. It would've never worked out. Not in a million years."

"Y...yes..."

"There was never anything between us, my angel," he sighed. "I was a madman in those days. Driven crazy by your beauty, I imagine. After all, you were one of the first women to ever take an interest in me down here."

"One of the first?" Christine was losing her conviction. "What do you mean?"

"Tut. It doesn't matter now..." Erik made a motion with his hand as if dusting the whole idea away. "You're with Raoul. You are happy."

"Um...yes. Very much so," Christine agreed, almost to convince herself.

"Or..._are_ you?"

Erik raised his eyebrows at her. Christine could feel herself flush beneath his gaze.

"What do you mean, Erik?" she said, rather hotly. "Of course I'm happy."

"Well, maybe it's just because I don't get out very much..." he gestured around the underground lair with a wave of his hand. "But it seems to me that it's not very natural for a woman such as you to return here just to tell me it would've never worked out. Whatever the 'it' you are referring to may be."

"It was important to me," Christine mumbled, raising her chin. "Some of us don't like to have loose ends hanging about."

"It was a long ride back here though, wasn't it?" Erik said smoothly. "Quite a long way to come."

"Like I said..."

"Important. Yes," he nodded solemnly. "Forgive me for saying so, Angel, but to me our business seemed finished. You left...I stayed... What loose ends were you referring to?"

"Well...I..." Christine thought for a few moments. This wasn't going at all how she'd planned. "I just didn't want to leave on such bad terms."

"I didn't think our terms were ever bad," Erik smiled. "I quite liked our 'terms.'"

Again Christine felt her face grow hot. She turned away from him and began walking.

"I've done what I came to," she said. "Goodbye, Erik."

Erik appeared in front of her as if from nowhere. Christine stopped her stride.

"Have you done _all_ that you came to?" he whispered.

"What do you mean?" she questioned, hardly daring to breathe.

Erik moved closer. Christine was a statue. His fingertips ran along her cheek, slowly moving downward to trace her lips. She would not close her eyes. She would not.

But she wouldn't move away either.

His lips were warm against her own. His arms enveloped her, pulled her close, dared her to drop her guard. And she did. Her body relaxed in his grasp and she fell almost limp against his body. He pressed her more closely to him, tempting her to open her mouth for more.

His tongue was slightly peppery. He nudged it against her lips tentatively until she could bear it no longer. He explored the inside of her mouth as she moaned with pleasure. She wanted him. Needed him.

Had never, ever forgotten him.

And then she woke up.

_Chapter 2: Breaking The News_


	2. Breaking The News

**Chapter 2: Breaking The News**

"Darling, what is it?"

Raoul's face was drawn in worriment.

"Just...just a dream," Christine mumbled.

Raoul tipped his head to one side and looked at her, trying to read some hidden thought upon her face. Christine looked away. The dream was too real, too intense...too personal...to share with Raoul. Even if he _was_ her husband.

Christine felt Raoul's arms slide around her waist from behind. He pulled her hair gently to one side and kissed her neck.

"Was it a nightmare?" he asked, concerned. "You gave quite a jump."

"Not exactly a nightmare..." she admitted, at the same time not wanting to divulge any details.

"So you're going to be all right?" He gave her shoulders a warm massage. "You don't need a bedtime story or anything?"

"Bedtime story?"

He smiled at her. "My little Lotte."

"Oh, Raoul..."

She shook her head and laughed. He kissed her cheek and lay back down next to her on the bed.

"I love you, Christine," he said, staring up at her with big trusting eyes.

"I love you, too, Raoul," she mumbled.

"Goodnight. Wake me up if you need anything."

Raoul pulled his half of the blanket tightly around him and drifted back to sleep almost instantly. Christine stared at him in wonderment. How was it that men could fall asleep so easily?

How was it that she was cursed to spend year after year, tormented, wondering what might have been?

It was crazy! Erik was a murderer. A phantom. No woman in her right mind would even _consider_ forging a future with a man like that. It was madness.

But there was something there, wasn't there? At first...

She had to know.

"Raoul?"

She gave Raoul a tap on his shoulder. No good. She shook him. He awoke with jerk.

"Mmph?"

"Sorry, Honey," Christine apologized.

"S'okay..." Raoul answered, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "You have another nightmare?"

"No. I..." she breathed in deeply. "I need to talk to you."

_Chapter 3: No More Talk Of Darkness_


	3. No More Talk Of Darkness

**Chapter 3: No More Talk Of Darkness**

"Christine..." Raoul sighed. "We've been over this a thousand times."

"I know." Christine nibbled on her lower lip. "But..."

"I'm here, Christine. With you. Beside you..." Raoul said, looking deeply into her eyes. "Why not bring me along? Why do you have to do this alone? Why do you have to do it at _all_?"

"Because..."

Christine thought of The Phantom, of Erik. How they used to sing together. How he used to sing to her when they were alone. How they shared that one last parting kiss...

Damn that kiss.

"Because I have to know something," Christine answered. "And I have to find it out on my own."

"Christine, it's dangerous." Raoul said firmly. "He's a madman. A killer. He almost killed us both! I know it's been a few years now, but surely your memory isn't that faulty?"

"He never killed anyone before he met me that I know of," Christine said defensively. "And he hasn't killed anyone since! It would've been in the papers!"

In fact, she didn't even know whether _he_ was alive...

Scratch that. She did know. She could feel him. He was inside her, beating with her heart.

"Christine..." Raoul was weary.

"I mean, what if it was my fault, Raoul?" Christine insisted. "What if I was the one who drove him to such dark corners of despair that he was forced to murder people!"

"_Forced_ to murder people?" Raoul was skeptical. "Christine, I don't think..."

"He may have been living a nice happy life until I came along! Going to the opera, writing music..." Christine made vague wave with her hand. "And then I come along and...and pow! I ruined his life! He went mad from my beauty and my voice and just...killed people because of it. Why, if it weren't for me, I bet he'd have been discovered under there and been made a star. I mean, he was pretty all right looking with his mask on."

Shoot. That wasn't supposed to be out loud.

"'Pretty all right,' huh?" Raoul was amused.

"Well...you know..." Christine flushed.

"Lotte, the only one that's been driven mad by your beauty and your voice is me."

"But..."

"No more talk of darkness. Forget these wide-eyed fears," Raoul said, stroking her hair. "It wasn't your fault any of that stuff happened. If the only reason you want to go back is to find that out, or to apologize to him, then it's a wasted effort. Not to mention a dangerous one."

"Raoul..." Christine was frustrated. Why couldn't he just let her go?

"But," Raoul sighed, "I can see you have your heart set on it so I'll cut you a deal."

"You will!" Christine couldn't hide the excitement from her voice.

"Yes." Raoul nodded. "You may go back to the opera, but you have to follow a couple of safety rules."

"Which are?"

"You can only be gone for three days," Raoul said firmly. "That's it. Any longer than three days and I'm coming after you with the army. Fair so far?"

"Just three?"

"Just three," he confirmed. "And second rule is that you can only stay there if Meg is still there. I know that Meg will take care of you. If she's not there, you can't go at all."

"Meg is there."

"Good," he said. "The third rule is that each time you go down there to talk to him, someone has to know you're down there. No sneaking off in the night!"

"Is...is that all?"

"That's all!" he smiled. "Just don't get yourself killed, all right?"

"I won't," Christine grinned.

She couldn't believe it. He was letting her go.

She was going back to the Opera.

_Chapter 4: Old Friends_


	4. Old Friends

**Chapter 4: Old Friends**

The opera house was very much the same. Stagehands wandered about fixing riggings and lighting equipment, fiddled with ropes and pulleys, and chatted. The newest talents practiced their arias hoping to become the next star. Hoping to become what she once was.

The chandelier was missing, of course, but that didn't really bother her. She could remember it quite well enough, thank you very much.

There was just one last thing to attend to and that was to find...

"Christine!"

Meg's voice called out her name in a high-pitched squeak of excitement.

Christine turned around. There was her old friend, dressed in her usual tu-tu. Christine smiled. Meg looked so serene and angelic she almost didn't want to admit she had really come to see Erik. That this was just a friendly visit.

"Meg," Christine said, still smiling. "It's so good to see you."

Meg didn't bother to reply. She did a couple of quick ballet leaps and in a matter of seconds was throwing her arms around Christine's neck.

"Oh, Christine! It's so good to have you back! I never thought I'd see you again!" Meg started to babble. "You know what? Your dressing room is just how it was when you left! I've been telling everyone it's haunted and none of them want to use it! Isn't that splendid?"

"Um...yes..." Christine managed. "Exactly the same?"

Meg scrunched up her nose. "Well...a bit more dusty. But other than that, yes!"

"You mean no one's touched it since I left?"

"Well..." Meg was defensive. "I was _going_ to, but I got into telling the story of how it was haunted so often that I actually started to believe it myself. It started to be a wee bit creepy for me to go in and dust it, you know?"

Christine laughed. "Well, I hope I'm not scaring you. After all, according to your stories, aren't you talking to a ghost right now?"

Meg looked confused. "What?" Then the light dawned. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...no no no. You weren't the ghost in my stories! It was..._him_."

"Oh. Right."

Christine felt a tingle go up and down her spine. _Him_. She knew exactly who Meg meant. She did a few mental exercises to regain her cool and then put her arm around Meg's shoulder.

"So!" she said. "How about you give me the grand tour?"

"Oh, sure," Meg said, surprised. "It's all pretty much the same, really. New people and all that, but, you know, that's to be expected."

Meg did her best impression of a tour guide as she led Christine around the familiar territory of the opera house. That is, if tour guides were prone to wearing tu-tus. Christine nodded politely and took in the sights. She'd seen it all before, so there wasn't much to digest. Which gave her plenty of time to think of other things. Of other people.

Of how she was going to tell Meg that she wasn't there just to see her.

"Annnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnd," Meg started, giving a dramatic wave with her hands, "last but not least: your room!"

Meg threw open the door to Christine's old dressing room with flourish. Christine was a bit taken aback. Her room already? She had been so lost in thought she hadn't paid attention to where she was going.

"Well?" Meg asked, raising her eyebrows. "Aren't you going to go inside?"

"Well, I, um..." Christine wasn't quite ready to face the reality of her visit so soon. She gave a weak laugh. "What if it really _is_ haunted?"

"Oh poo!" Meg laughed. "I was just joking about that! Step inside."

Christine stepped inside the room and was amazed. Her vanity was still in place. Her chest of drawers. Her closet that once held all sorts of elaborate costumes. It was as if she'd never left.

She sat down on the cushioned vanity stool and tried to catch her breath.

"You...you dusted," she gulped.

"Ta-da!" Meg exclaimed, never one for timing. "It's just how you left it."

"I can see that."

"Except that I put a box of props in front of the, ah, mirror," Meg said, glancing to the back of the room.

Christine looked to the back of the room. She saw her own reflection staring back at her. The mirror. It went from the floor almost to the ceiling. It was as wide as a door for a good reason: it was a door. It was the door to Erik.

She wondered if he was on the other side looking in at her like he used to. She quickly tossed the idea aside. There was no way Erik could even know she had returned.

"Don't worry though," Meg went on, "he's not down there."

"What?" Christine turned her attention back to Meg.

"I went down there after you'd left," Meg stated proudly. "There were a bunch of broken mirrors and..." Meg paused to add a dramatic flair to her story. "...And I found...his _mask_!"

"Oh," Christine blinked. "Right."

Christine almost hated to tell Meg that The Phantom had plenty of back-up masks. It was hardly likely that Meg discovering one of them meant he was gone for good.

At least she hoped not.

"Meg...there's...there's something I need to tell you," Christine said, trying to find the right words.

"Ooh! A secret!" Meg squealed. "This is so exciting! Just like old times. Tell me: are you pregnant? Am I going to be an aunty?"

"Um..." Christine blushed. "No. I..."

She looked into Meg's eager face and felt a pang of guilt. But she had to say what she was there for. She had to.

"I need to..." Christine started again. "I need..."

Oh sod it.

"I need to stay here for about 3 days," Christine said in a rush. "Just to, you know, spend some time with you and all. I, um, miss you." Well, at least that part was true. She added, "And I was thinking maybe I'd get back into opera. Like, um, small parts. Nothing major."

"Ooh! Back into Opera!" Meg was obviously thrilled with the idea. "That's great!"

"Yes. Great," Christine agreed. "So is it all right to stay?"

"Oh, yes," Meg nodded. "Absolutely."

"Fantastic," Christine smiled.

"Was that all you had to tell me?" Meg prodded. "You looked so anxious."

"Um...yes..." Christine lied. "That was it."

"Okey-dokey," Meg said. "Well, I have to go back to practice. You know how it is. I'll see you later."

She gave Christine another hug.

"It's so good to have you back, Christine," she beamed. "Just like old times!"

"Yes," Christine nodded. "Just like old times."

Meg left the room and Christine let out a breath of air. She hadn't told Meg about going down to speak with Erik.

Well, Raoul would just have to understand. Besides, two out of three rules followed wasn't bad, right?

_Chapter 5: Not As She'd Planned_

_Side Note: Thanks to all of you who've taken an interest in this story. I know the modern language can be a little bit daunting, but I think it's more fun that way. :) As you probably guessed from the chapter title, Erik shows up again in the next chapter. spoiler Erik's not too happy and will act a bit boorish. But, trust me, it won't last long. ;)_


	5. Not As She'd Planned

**Chapter 5: Not As She'd Planned**

It was evening at last. The Phantom would be awake now, going about his business writing music, singing, and whatever else he did when he was alone.

It was time for Christine to do what she'd come to.

"Deep breaths, Christine," she told herself.

Christine glanced at herself in the mirror. Not too shabby, she thought. Her hair and make-up were done to perfection and you could barely tell her knees were quaking beneath her long skirt.

Just one little niggle... Did Meg really think she looked pregnant? Surely she hadn't gained _that_ much weight since she'd left the Opera! Christine stood in front of the mirror and turned to one side. She ran her hand along her stomach. It was impossible, of course... But maybe she should cinch her corset a wee bit tighter just in case. After all, she didn't want to look flabby in front of Erik.

All right. All set. Christine looked at her reflection in the mirror. She looked scared.

"You can do this," she told her reflection. "You can do it."

Her reflection gave a determined nod. Good. She moved the box of props to one side and opened the mirror-door. She stepped inside the secret passageway.

"Musky," she noted. "Just like old times..."

As if sleepwalking, she followed the passage. Before she knew it, she was walking alongside the underground river.

"Erik?" she called out.

God, this was weird. Just like her dream. She half expected him to turn up behind her, breathing his hot breath down her neck.

Hmmm, come to think of it, that didn't sound half bad.

"Erik?" she squeaked out. "Are you down here?"

And then she saw him. Erik. The Phantom. Half-asleep on his chair, slumped over his organ. She stared at him. He was there. He was alive. He was right in front of her.

What if he didn't want to see her? But that was silly. After all, he'd said he loved her, right? And she was always glad to see people she loved. He would probably be glad.

Yes. Glad. All right then.

"Erik?" she called tentatively. "Erik, it's me..."

The figure stirred.

"Christine?"

Erik looked up from the organ. When he saw her figure, he straightened in his chair. First shock and then confusion ran across his face. He blinked at her. Christine smiled. He looked like a little boy who'd just woken up from a nap to find he'd been presented with a shiny new bicycle.

"Hello," she smiled. "It's good to see you."

"Christine...is that...is that..." he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

How sweet, she thought. He was so happy to see her he couldn't believe his eyes. He'd probably run over and hug her at any moment. Why, within the hour they'd be chatting it up and writing music just like they used to. Why he probably...

"YOU!" he bellowed, rising from his chair. "YOU! CHRISTINE! What the _hell_ are YOU doing here!"

His gaze turned from a soft look of mild confusion to a harsh look of violent rage. He stormed around his chair, tossing sheets of music down around him in a fit of fury.

Christine took a step backward in confusion.

"Erik...?"

"You," he shook his head. "You." He looked up. "It's really you, isn't it?"

"Yes..." she said. "It's me. It's Christine."

"Damn you!" he roared. "Damn you!" He knocked down a small table. "Can't you leave me in peace! You've already ruined my life once! Wasn't that enough for you, you witch!"

He was angry? Angry wasn't good.

"Well, I, um," Christine started to back away. "I actually wanted to apologize for that."

"'Apologize?'" This time it was Erik's turn to step back. He quickly recovered. "_Apologize?"_

Erik stomped over to Christine and grabbed her by the front of her dress. Christine screamed and closed her eyes. His grip held firm.

"The only way you can apologize to me is in my bed," he hissed.

"But I belong to Raoul," Christine cried. "I'm married to him. I love him! You know that!"

"You waste your devotion!" Erik yelled. "You should have loved _me_!"

"But I..."

Christine was at a loss. Erik snorted in disgust. Stupid girl. He lifted her up in his arms and carried her roughly towards his bed. He plopped her down with a resounding _thud._ Christine gasped to regain her wind. Erik was already unbuttoning his shirt.

"What...what are you doing?" Christine asked, frightened, yet strangely intrigued.

"This is where you belong," Erik said as if he hadn't heard her. "Here. With me. This is where you've always belonged: with me. In _my_ bed. Not that stupid boy. Not your precious Raoul. I'll show you what you should have known all along."

"You can't!"

"These years of torture," Erik continued. "I'll take out my pain on your body. I'll make you feel the pain that you left me with. Your body will be racked with my pain! You'll beg for me to stop. Beg for my love. Beg for forgiveness..."

"What are you asking of me?" Christine whispered, backing up against the backboard of the bed.

For the first time, Erik looked her straight in the eyes.

"Not asking, my angel," he said cooly. "Demanding."

_Chapter 6: Begging And Pleading_


	6. Begging And Pleading

**Chapter 6: Begging And Pleading**

Christine was beginning to regret her decision not to tell Meg where she was going...

The skirt of Christie's dress was pulled up to her waist and The Phantom's hands were on her thighs. He kissed her forcefully once more.

"Stop! Stop!" she cried. "You can't do this!"

One of his hands moved deftly from her thigh to a lower position.

"Oh, I think your body disagrees," he hissed.

"No!"

"You're damp, Christine..."

"No! It doesn't give you the right!" she screamed.

"I think it does," he said, glaring at her as he moved his hand in circular motions of pleasure on her feminine mound. "Your body wants me, Christine. _You_ want me."

Maybe her body did want him. That came as no surprise. But her mind didn't.

Not like _this_.

"No! Get off!" she yelled, squirming beneath him.

Erik grunted. It was hard to maintain his position and hold her down at the same time. She kicked with her legs and connected in a painful area.

"YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!" Erik roared furiously. "You witch!"

Christine scrambled out of the bed and began to run down the path next to the river. Erik regained his senses and darted after her. She ran faster, but it wasn't fast enough. Erik grabbed her by the arm and spun her around.

"Let go!" Christine wailed, tears cornering her eyes.

"You had no qualms when I touched you before," Erik said, looking deeply into her eyes. "You used to welcome by touch in the night. Do you remember?"

"I thought you were an angel then," she whispered.

"An angel?" he scoffed. "An angel in hell? If you truly believed that, you were more mad than I was."

"Don't mock me," Christine said angrily.

"Don't be stupid," he countered.

"Let me go."

Erik looked into her eyes, thinking it over. A sadness crossed his features. With a sigh, he released her wrist.

"Go," he mumbled. "If that is what you wish, you may go..."

Christine stared at him, not believing what had happened. She stood still, watching him.

"_GO!"_ he screamed. "Get out!"

She turned tail and ran. As she made her way through the corridors, she could hear his cries echo through the night.

_Chapter 7: Busted_

_Note - Okay, I know this chapter didn't turn out the way a lot of you wanted it to. Don't worry: your needs will be fulfilled by the end of the story. Just be patient. I think it'll be worth the wait. ;)_


	7. Busted

_Hello, faithful readers..._

_I'm sorry it's taken so long to get the last few chapters up. I've been in and out of hospitals the past week and haven't had a chance to get to a computer. (For those of you who're interested, I'm doing slightly better now)._

_The good news is, there's only two more chapters to be put up: _Chapter 8 - A Wish Fulfilled _and _Chapter 9 - A New Beginning_. (My apologies to Monroe-Mary for telling the titles of the chapters again). They should both be up by the end of next week._

_Anyway, I just wanted to say thanks for sticking with me and sorry for the delay. And having said that... Away we go!_

**Chapter 7: Busted**

Christine tip-toed back into her room, her heart racing. She closed the mirror-door behind her and fumbled around in the dark for her lamp. She turned it on and let out a yelp of surprised.

"Ah-HA!" exclaimed Meg, pointing an accusatory finger at her friend. "I knew it!"

"Meg!" Christine gasped. "You scared me! What're you doing here?"

"Ohhhhhhh..." Meg fumed, her brow furrowing. "Oh, Christine..." She stomped her foot on the floor. "Darn it, Christine! Do you want to die? Why can't you stay away from that passage! I was so worried about you!"

Christine looked to Meg's face and felt a pang of guilt. She hadn't told Meg of her plans and had ended up worrying her anyway. But how did Meg know she would use the passage? She had been so careful not to make any noise.

"How did you...I mean, what led you to believe I would use the passage again?" Christine questioned, wringing her hands.

"This!" Meg pulled an envelope from her tu-tu and smacked it with the back of her hand. "This is how I knew. God, Christine! What were you thinking? Do you know how dangerous it would be if he was down there?"

Christine reached out and gently took the envelope from Meg's hand. She stared at it. Raoul's handwriting.

Raoul had written to Meg to tell her Christine was coming.

"You...knew?" Christine gulped, her stomach sinking. "You knew why I was coming?"

"I had hoped he was joking!" Meg huffed.

"He wasn't."

"Well, I gathered that from the way you were staring at the mirror earlier today," Meg said indignantly. "I'm not an idiot, Christine. I know what's what."

"I know you do," Christine said, feeling more guilty and awful by the second.

Meg looked at her friend and sighed. She gave her a quick hug and pulled back, taking Christine's arms and leading her to sit down at the vanity.

"I'm sorry," Meg said. "I was just really worried about you... I mean, why would you even _want_ to go back down there after what you'd been through?"

Christine gazed at her own reflection in the vanity mirror. She knew the reason why. She needed to see him again. See Erik. To hear his voice, to feel his warm body close to hers. She needed to find out what "might have been." She needed to know if he ever really loved her. If he loved her still.

She needed to know if she truly loved him back.

Was it just the night playing tricks on her, or had there really been something there? And, more importantly, was it there _still_?

"It's...personal," Christine said finally, trying not to catch Meg's eyes in case they gave away her true motives.

"Oh?" Meg said, tipping her head curiously to one side. "Is it one of those 'conquering your fears' type things?"

"Um...sort of," Christine answered, nervously chewing on her lower lip. She hoped Meg wouldn't ask too many more questions.

"Well, I guess I'll let you sleep then," said Meg, heading for the door. At the last moment she turned around. "Just one more thing..." she started, "...did you find what you were looking for?"

"No," Christine answered honestly. "I didn't."

Which is why she knew she had to go back.

_Chapter 8: A Wish Fulfilled_


	8. A Wish Fulfilled

**Chapter 8: A Wish Fulfilled**

Erik slammed his fist down onto the organ keyboard. Even above the arising cacophony of noise, one thought screamed out to him: he had been stupid.

"She had come back to me," he whispered to himself, sinking down into his chair. "She was mine again..."

He stared out blankly into space, the thoughts continuing to well up inside of him, the despair continuing to mount. He was trying not to cry. But the technique of staring off into space only works if you don't blink.

Erik blinked.

Tears began to roll silently down his cheeks. The pain was too much. He had had her and he had lost her. Again. Was he only meant to suffer during his wretched life? When would the pain finally end?

Erik folded his arms in front of him and laid his head down on his hands. The tears were coming faster now and he was close to sobbing.

"Shhhhh..." A comforting voice said, placing cool fingertips on his cheek.. "Shhh. It's going to be all right."

He lifted his head. His face was hot and tear-streaked. His vision was blurred, but he knew who would be standing there when he turned his head.

"Christine?" he whispered.

"You always did have a sensitive side..." Christine said lightly, taking a handkerchief and dabbing it softly at the corners of his eyes. "There you go."

"You..." he could barely say it. "You came back?"

He turned his head fully this time and looked into her eyes. She looked back at him, unwavering, determined.

"I had to."

Erik gazed at her, tracing over her features with his eyes. She was really here. He almost couldn't believe it.

Her eyes became soft. She put a hand to his cheek. What was she thinking? It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. Thoughts weren't even an option here.

Christine leaned forward and kissed Erik gently on the lips. She felt him take a quick intake of air. She could tell he longed to deepen the kiss, but he was holding himself back.

She pulled away and stepped back. She watched him. He was dazed and a little confused, she thought. She'd let him regroup and see what his next move was.

Erik took in a few slow breaths. In. Out. In. Out. This was the second time she had willingly kissed him. The first time he had doubted that it had even happened. He had been so hazed over with anger at her leaving him that he thought maybe, in his madness, he had imagined it. That some sympathizing angel had granted him a beautiful daydream to sustain him throughout the lonely nights.

But not this kiss. This time he knew it was real.

But...why?

"Christine," he said, rising from his chair. "Oh, Christine..."

He stepped forward boldly and reached his arms out to her. She looked at him, unsure. He felt a pain in his heart seeing her looking like that. Looking at him as if he were an unstable madman. Looking at him as if she were contemplating running away.

And who could blame her? The pain crushed his heart a little more. Who could blame her after the way he had behaved?

"Christine..." he started, taking a tentative step closer. He bowed his head. "Christine, I'm so sorry."

Christine looked at him, looking so ashamed and hurt, and felt her own heart reach out to him. A thick cloud of emotions swirled around her and something caught in her throat. He apologized for his behaviour. And he meant it. She almost felt like crying herself.

She reached out to him and pulled him the final step closer, wrapping her arms around him and inviting him to lay his weary head down upon her bosom. Poor Erik. Poor love-depraved Erik. He needed her. Needed her love.

Almost as much as she needed his.

"Well," Christine admitted, blushing slightly, "your actions earlier weren't _entirely_ un-welcomed..."

Erik's head snapped upright. Had she said what he thought she'd said? One look into her eyes was all the answer he needed.

Without another word, they began to kiss. At first Erik barely touched her, but she pressed her body closely against him and he welcomed the warmth. He held her more tightly to him as the passion began to grow.

He left her lips for a moment and delivered tender kisses along her jawline, making his way down her neck. Christine ran her fingers through his hair as he did wonderful things to the hollow of her neck and traveled downward even further. She tipped her head back and moaned with pleasure as he teased her with his tongue through the fabric of her dress. Where had he learned all this? She could barely breathe.

Erik captured her lips once more, using his hands to take over for his tongue and continued to caress her chest with utmost care. He wouldn't let her down this time. He wouldn't lose her again. Not this time.

Christine nibbled on his lower lip, tasting his salty flavour. He parted his lips, silently begging for more, and she was more than happy to give in to the temptation. Her tongue slid gracefully between his lips and was met with his. She explored him fully, but it wasn't enough. They both knew that.

Erik was the first to pull back.

"Christine..."

His eyes asked the question. Christine nodded in agreement.

Erik lifted her up into his arms. As if he were a groom carrying his new bride across the threshold, he made his way to the bed. His heart pounded nervously in his chest as he lay her down on the bed. He had dreamed of this moment for so long. It had to be perfect.

He reached to dim the lamp. Christine's hand stopped him. He looked at her, confused.

"Leave it on," she said breathlessly.

"But..." he paused trying to find the words. "My face..."

"Your face doesn't bother me," she said. "You know that."

"But with the light off... You can pretend I'm someone else."

"Exactly," Christine whispered, giving him a knowing look. "It's not 'someone else' I want right now. It's you. _All_ of you. That includes your face."

Erik pushed all of his doubts and fears out of his mind. This was it.

He made short work of his shirt and crawled onto the bed, ready and willing to help Christine with her dress. He unbuttoned it and pulled it down. He was met with a lacy corset that pushed her breasts into smooth rounds of flesh. He couldn't help but stare at their soft beauty. He kissed each perfect mound separately and began to untie her corset.

Simultaneously, Christine worked on Erik's pants. As he lay down next to her, fiddling with her undergarments, she could feel his growing need pressing into her thigh. It was almost more than she could stand.

"It would be faster if you just ripped it off," she mumbled, frustrated. "I can always get a new one."

Erik stopped untying her corset, amused. He looked into her eyes, his own eyes sparkling. He kissed the tip of her nose.

"Patience, my angel..." he whispered to her, his hot breath brushing her ear. "Making love is like making music...it takes time to get it just right. And I want to do this right."

He wanted to do it perfectly. Mainly because he wasn't sure if he'd get another chance. But he didn't say that to Christine.

Christine nodded. She was once again the pupil and he was the master. His pants were gone and her corset was nearly loose enough to be removed.

Erik edged the corset off of her body, relishing the way it hugged her every curve. He was already naked and fully aroused beside her. As soon as he got rid of this...one...last... There!

"Damn," he breathed.

Christine looked good naked. She looked so good in that moment that all of his years of fantasizing seemed as though they had been painted by an amateur. She looked better in reality than she had ever looked in his dreams.

"The feeling is mutual," she said finally, looking at him. "Just...one last thing."

She reached up and began to remove his mask. Erik's breath came in sharply and he raised his hand up to her own as if to stop her. But his second thoughts soon faded away.

She removed the mask.

Erik stared at her, feeling naked emotionally now as well as physically. He needed her approval. As if sensing this, Christine spoke.

"You've never looked more handsome," she said lovingly, "my sweet angel of music..."

Erik dipped his head low and began to kiss her breasts once more, this time without the cloth to interfere. She called out to him, but he used what he could of his will power.

When they could both stand it no longer, he entered her.

And only then did they truly understand the deepest meaning of The Music Of The Night.

_Chapter 9: A New Beginning_


	9. A New Beginning

**Chapter 9: The New Beginning**

Christine was back home.

Things were back to normal again. She was once again living the life of a refined housewife. The wife of Raoul.

She was once again throwing elegant parties. Once again helping to cook and clean. Once again living with and loving Raoul. Everything was the same as it had always been.

Well...maybe a little different.

Christine smiled and looked out her bedroom window in the direction of the opera house. She had left Erik again, but this time there had been no angry words or tears. They left each other with a warm embrace and the promise to see each other again someday.

Yes, Christine thought, they _would _see each other again someday...

...after all, Erik Jr would be wanting to meet his father.

Christine rested her hand fondly on her expanded stomach for a moment. She took one last look at the window and turned away.

She would see him again. Someday.

The End

_Chapter Next: The Final Unmasking (About The Author)_


	10. The Final Unmasking: About The Author

**The Final Unmasking: About The Author**

All right, confession time...

My name is Lauren R. Tharp. I'm a freelance writer (fiction stories, movie scripts, poetry) who's won quite a few awards ranging from the "Editor's Choice" award from the International Library of Poetry to being chosen 3 different times as "Story Of The Month" for Teen Magazine.

Whereas this was my first Fan Fiction story, I have over twenty stories posted at Fiction Press under the name "Peggy I. Newton." (If you liked this story, I would recommend my story "Obsession" to you).

When I'm not writing, I'm working on my online comic strip. It's called "Unlucky In A Tin Can" and can be easily found by googling either my name or the name of the strip.

Now for some Q&A...

**Q:** Are you really a Phantom fan?  
**A:** Absolutely! Although I have not read the book (yet), my knowledge of the various Phantom movies and the stunning musical play is fairly vast. I've always had an interest in The Phantom Of The Opera since I was a little girl and it became even more intense after having the pleasure of seeing the play when I was in 7th grade.

**Q:** Your author name is "Raoul4Me," but this story was clearly an E/C...who's side are you really on?  
**A:** Raoul. _Definitely_ Raoul.

**Q:** Why?  
**A:** Well, uh...Erik's crazy. Sure, he's a good-looking crazy guy, but, to me, that's not enough to give him a free pass. (Especially after being in an extremely violent relationship with a "Phantom" of my own). I'll take the normal nice guy any day! (Raoul was actually based partly on my current boyfriend).

**Q:** Traiter! E/C all the way!  
**A:** Um...the story _was_ an E/C. Hence my profile: "Raoul for me. Phantom for you." While I would take Raoul over Erik any day of the week, I know that I'm one of few. So, of course, I'm going to write for the opinion of the masses.

**Q:** Oh. Right. But why go to the bother of writing an E/C if you don't like it?  
**A:** Actually, the story behind that was kind of stupid. My best friend was reading an E/C Phan-Fic that she thought was really good and then she turns to me and says "You could never write something like this." I got really pissed off. Then, without telling her what I was up to, I commenced to writing an E/C Phan Fic of my own. "That'll show her!" I thought. So this whole story was pretty much just to prove I could write an E/C fic as well as the next person.

**Q:** Well, you must have really shown her!  
**A:** Not really. It was kind of an anti-climax

**Q:** So...about that fluff scene...  
**A:** lol. Actually, I'm a virgin (I don't believe in sex before marriage and I'm not married yet). I had to ask my friends a lot of embarrassing questions...so I hope you appreciate it! Also, re-watching some movies like Top Gun and Backdraft helped, too. Basically: I had to make my best guess. I was sincerely surprised when I got reactions like "Whew! That was great!" instead of "What the hell was _that_!" So I guess I did all right.

**Q:** Indeed. So have you been pulled into the mystical world of E/C fans? Are you finding yourself attracted to Erik?  
**A:** Not a chance. There will be no turning to the "dark side" for this girl. But I think that's for the best, don't you? That leaves Erik all for you. ;)

**Q:** Will you be writing any more Phantom stories?  
**A:** That remains to be seen. It was a blast, but I'm so busy with other projects (and going in and out of the hospital due to my medical problems) that it probably won't be for a while. Until then, re-read "All I Demand Of You" and share it with your friends!

Thanks for reading!  
–Lauren


End file.
